Page 48 of Saving the Last Heir
“Sorry about that,” Shyanne whispered as we walked to the paint room.
“It’s fine.” I enjoyed some good-natured ribbing and jokes. Christian would have fit right in with these guys.
Following her into the paint room, I tried my best not to think about the little daydream I’d had earlier and to keep my eyes up and not locked onto her ass. That became easier as she got to work.
“Close that door, will you?” she asked, gesturing to the rolling bay door that separated the paint room from the rest of the shop.
I did, then stood back as she went to the car with an intense focus. She removed the last of the damaged mirror, cutting and stripping wires, gently scraping away the shattered bits of paint.
“The lady who sold me that mirror was kind of an asshole about it,” she said as she cut open the box.
“Why?”
“Wanted the VIN for the car.” Shyanne shook her head. “I guess dealers like this make a shit ton of money on service and repairs. High-end dealers even more so. She probably wanted to look up theowner’snumber and try to steal them away with a deal or service package. Nothing like fucking over the little guy.” She made a disgusted sound deep in her throat. “I basically told her to give me the fucking thing and not worry about it. She gave me the stink eye, but handed it over.” Shyanne shrugged and flashed me a smile. “She was also pretty pissed about how early I was there. I was standing outside when they unlocked the doors.”
I grinned, awed that she was helping me so readily. She didn’thaveto do any of this. Like I’d told her before, I didn’t think this was all about money for her. Shyanne was a genuinely good person with a sweet and kind soul, and I was incredibly grateful I’d met her.
“I appreciate you going to all this trouble,” I said. “I promise I’ll make it up to you.”
She waved me off. “It’s fine.”
Watching her was like watching an old-school craftsman at work. I didn’t like to think I was stuck in traditional gender roles, but seeing this beautiful woman who would be at home in a boardroom or on a modeling runway work on this car was impressive. Her father had taught her well. I was slightly ashamed to admit that I’d never even changed my own oil, so this was a pretty badass thing to watch.
“What are you doing now?” I asked, as she opened the doors and used a few small tools to take off the interior panels. “Is there something messed up inside too?” The thought that there was evenmoredamage to the car made me nervous.
“No, it has a three-sixty degree camera system. There’s a camera inside the mirror I’m installing, and I have to make sure it’s fully connected and calibrated. That’s why the thing is so expensive.” She tapped the mirror with a finger. “This stupid mirror probably has more electronics in it than the first moon landing spacecraft had.”
Installing the mirror took almost two hours, and it involved far more work than I’d anticipated. I assisted where I could, which mostly meant grabbing tools for Shyanne when she asked for them and staying out of the way otherwise. By the time it was complete, and she started tearing out the damaged roof upholstery, I felt completely useless.
I glanced out the window that overlooked the main floor. Reggie, Brent, and Carlo worked and directed the other men as theymoved around the few cars in the service bays. She had a fairly large crew for the amount of work she had.
“Have you always had such a big staff?” I asked absently.
Shyanne grunted in effort as she tugged at the upholstery stitching. “That was always Dad’s big thing. He was born and raised in this neighborhood, and when he was growing up, there weren’t a lot of jobs here. There’s plenty of jobs everywhere else in the city, but he liked giving back.”
Turning from the window, I looked at her. She sat, half in and half out of the car, a seam cutter in one hand.
She smiled sadly. “He opened the shop here to make sure he could give jobs to folks in the neighborhood.” She pointed toward the outer shop. “All those guys live within a five-minute drive. Most of them walk to work. That’s huge for people. Saves money on gas. Working here gives them skills they can use later if they decide to move on. It’s honestly ahugefinancial burden, and part of why we’re in a hole, but it was my father’s dream, and I share that. Why have a business if you can’t give back?”
A pleasant tingle of happiness spread down my back. It was the same emotional reaction a person got when you heard someone say something that you truly believed in.
“Has anyone ever told you how amazing you are?”
Her smile slipped, but her eyes glittered. “Uh, no. Not really. Well, I mean, my dad does, but that’s, uh, different.”
Even with her darker complexion, I could see the flush in her cheeks. I grinned, pleased that I’d made her feel good.
“Do you mind if I step outside for a second? I need to make a call.”
“Sure,” she said. “I’m about to start measuring the inside roof. After that, we can cut the fabric and install it. I’ll need your help then. That’s a job for at least four hands.”
“Be back in a bit.”
I hurried out to the parking area and called Christian.
“Where the fuck have you been?” he said when he answered.
“Nice to talk to you too,” I said dryly.
